The Pudding Club

Well there was no pie. As such. But bf’s mother had bought two puddings – a tarte au citron and a trifle. Although I love lemon, neither of these would be things I’d choose on a menu. As it is, I had the tarte and it was so disappointing (WHY if something is supposed to be lemon, does it not taste of lemons? Making it a yellow colour is not enough in my book) that I decided to console myself with some trifle – which was even worse. The only thing that was nice was the rather excessive amount of jersey extra thick cream I had (again, neither of these puddings required cream, I know this). Then I had some jelly babies and a couple of chocolates.

So it was no real surprise that I didn’t lose any weight this week. I was perfect 60% of the time (rough estimate) but I need to be perfect 100% of the time in order to shift any poundage, sadly. So, this week gives me a shiny new chance to do that.

Bf has decided he doesn’t want me to make my meatball lasagne as it will be “too big” – even though I offered to make a mini version. In fact he is resisting all “fuss” for his birthday. Things he has recoiled in horror from:
1) Going out for supper
2) Me making supper, inc pudding (had secret plans for tiramisu which he loves)
3) Me making a cake
4) Me making a cake and bringing it to his office with fizz for him and his colleagues
5) Me making him a picnic lunch extraordinaire and bringing it to his office/nearby park
(NB I secretly saw myself in a 50s dress and cute heels with a wicker basket for options 4 and 5. Which would have been a problem since I don’t actually own a 50s dress. Or any heels I don’t limp in. Which severely reduces the sass factor I was fondly imagining)

Admittedly, 1) is kind of redundant since we’re going out for dinner in Suffolk on 23rd, but he is very resistant to me spoiling him and I love to have an excuse to do so. He’s now agreed to go to the cinema that night (obv, I have plans for that to be a bit more special than vats of popcorn and pop), so I’ll need a few booze credits for that at least, but other than this, this week is looking as if I should be able to cover myself in glory. Assuming there’s not only enough glory to cover a size 10. In which case there may be trouble and metaphorical unattractive and distinctly unglorious nudity ahead.